Despite the war raging in his heart, he does not regret kissing her. Not once. Maybe that makes him a bastard. Maybe heshouldregret all the times he’s been weak. But no matter how often he’s tried, he can’t make himself.
“I hate myself for it, but you, Seren, I will never regret,” he admits, the words tasting sour on the way out.
He turns away, striding toward the window before he can see the words land. But her breathing trembles on the way out, her pulse stutters. And the pain of knowing he’s hurting her rips a gaping hole in his restraint.
Fucking Aetherstride abilities.Sometimes, he wishes he didn’t sense what others feel.
“You charge into battle without hesitation, Teddy. But here… with me? You hesitate. Funny how terrified you are of wantingsomething.” She pauses for a heartbeat, and adds, “I guess evenyourbravery has limitations.” Her voice breaks.
He wants to reach for her. To pull her into his arms. To touch her. Hold her. To drag one of those soft moans from her again. To tell her he loves her, that hedoeschoose her. To finally stop fighting the instinct to keep her. But he can’t. Not out loud. Not when admitting it would mean breaking his vow.
Because Teddy doesn’t break vows. Because if he breaks his word, then what the fuck is left of him?
All a man ever really has is his word.And if he admits this, his word means fucking nothing.
Words evade him. Movement, too. Teddy is frozen. Stuck somewhere between the past and the future. Hovering in the in-between.
Fuck.
He sucks in a sharp, fortifying breath.
Teddy needs to change the subject. To avoidthatface.
So he clears his throat, still avoiding her gaze.
“Obviously you made the crossing. What about The Harrows?” he asks, instilling his voice with a bravado he doesn’t feel.
Seren looks as if she might push, might keep pressing against his stagnation. But she looses an exhale, drops her shoulders.
Acquiescing.
“I made the crossing. But it adjusted its approach this time. Came down on top of me,” she explains, voice measured and clipped. “I did everything you taught me. But… it wasn’t enough.”
Teddy nods, taking in the information. “How did you change your tactical approach when the sea adjusted?” he asks, testing her mettle.
Her lips quirk up at the sides, aware of the test. “I ran.”
He hums something he knows is unreadable. A General of War assessing a student. “I need to teach you offensive skills for whenyouare the one claiming ground.”
Seren doesn’t hide it this time—she smiles, wide and unflinching. “Perhaps I need to teachyousome offensive skills, General Ashborne. It seems your tactical training has not transferred to other areas of life.”
A laugh tears from his throat, rich and uninhibited.
“I should’ve seen that coming,” he admits, raising his glass in defeat.
Seren joins him, an impossibly light laugh filling the space.
The sound stills every thought in his mind, and for a heartbeat, Teddy feels something he hasn’t felt in years: stillness.
Because somehow, impossibly, she makes even silence feel alive again.
And for the first time, it doesn’t feel like emptiness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The heart knows long before the mind
Regret is what gets left behind
